


A Simple Complication

by nontoxic



Series: love is a ruthless game [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Episode: s04e12 Singles Week, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, idiots with benefits to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26776717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nontoxic/pseuds/nontoxic
Summary: "Ugh," David groans. "Alexis wants volunteers for the Singles Week thing.""Hmm. You know, we could. It could be good for us. Tell her we want sponsorship in exchange, maybe our logo on the back of the tee shirts?""Right, yeah, it's just…" Patrick waits for him to formulate his thoughts. "I can't reallyvolunteerif I'm participating, right?"Patrick grips the steering wheel, tackling the emotions that bubble up one at a time. He readjusts himself in his seat. He swallows down the bile. He refocuses on the road ahead of him. He takes a breath. "You're, um… you're participating?"David just taps out a text as he responds, "Well, I mean… yeah. I'm single, right? So… why not?""Right, yeah. O-of course."Naive idiot, he chastises himself.Of course this isn't anything to David. Of courseheisn't anything to David.---David and Patrick have been "casually" hooking for a while when they decide to take part in singles week, which definitely sounds like a great idea for these two mutually pining idiots.(a friends-with-benefits singles week au)
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: love is a ruthless game [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952149
Comments: 141
Kudos: 437





	A Simple Complication

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a series of singles week retellings. No idea when I'll get these all up, but alas.
> 
> \---  
> title from "the story of us" by taylor swift

Patrick leans back against the seat for a moment, his sweaty skin sticking to the synthetic fabric covering the backseat, catching his breath.

"Holy shit, Patrick," he hears from the seat next to him, and glances over to catch David's eye, the soft moonlight pouring in from the window capturing his jaw, slack from pleasure, perfectly.

He wants to kiss him so badly right now, but he doesn't think he can move. Not even to kiss David Rose.

"Yeah," he breathes. "I'd say so, David."

David laughs lightly, but leans just a little further into the seat, his bare shoulder pressing against Patrick's, and he feels how the heat of David's damp skin matches his.

The sex is great, really, _really_ fucking great, but this is Patrick's favorite part. Sitting together after, trying to catch their breath, reminiscing on the moments that came (the moments when _they_ came) just before this.

With one final deep inhale, Patrick pulls his shirt back over his shoulders, leaving it unbuttoned as he reaches for the water bottle in the cup holder between the front seats.

"Thirsty?" he asks David, holding it out to him.

"Thanks," he responds, still breathless, before he pulls a long gulp from the bottle.

Patrick can't get hard again so soon, but he feels a familiar ember start to burn low in his belly at the sight of David's soft lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, the coarse hair covering his throat — hair that prickled Patrick's tongue when he licked his neck not five minutes ago — catching the moonlight, and he thinks he'd be willing to try.

He literally _just_ came, but he _wants_.

David hands the bottle back and Patrick finishes it off in two gulps, before buttoning his shirt back up. He probably misses a few buttons, hands still shaking, but he can't find it in him to care.

"Do you want a ride back?"

David rolls his eyes. "No, Patrick, I would like to _walk_ to the motel along dark country roads in the middle of the night with your come still on my breath."

Patrick surges forward and kisses him messily, enjoying the smile he feels against his lips. "'Yes, Patrick, thank you, you're such a gentleman to offer,'" he jokes when he finally pulls away.

"Oh my god, you're so annoying."

Patrick grins and nudges him toward the passenger seat. "Come on, your Uber's here."

"No, Patrick. Just... no."

Patrick climbs out and around to the driver's seat with a new spring in his step. This was hardly the most intense hookup he and David have had, but it was the first time since this whole _thing_ started that he didn't sputter and cough when David came down his throat, and that feels like a win.

He pulls out of the secluded, abandoned driveway they found last month when David's phone chimes.

"Ugh," David groans. "Alexis wants volunteers for the Singles Week thing."

"Hmm. You know, we could. It could be good for us. Tell her we want sponsorship in exchange, maybe our logo on the back of the tee shirts?"

"Right, yeah, it's just..." Patrick waits for him to formulate his thoughts. "I can't really _volunteer_ if I'm participating, right?"

Patrick grips the steering wheel, tackling the emotions that bubble up one at a time. He readjusts himself in his seat. He swallows down the bile. He refocuses on the road ahead of him. He takes a breath. "You're, um... you're participating?"

David just taps out a text as he responds, "Well, I mean... yeah. I'm single, right? So... why not?"

"Right, yeah. O-of course."

 _Naive idiot_ , he chastises himself.

Of course this isn't anything to David. Of course _he_ isn't anything to David.

What, did he think if he gave him a good enough blow job, or ate him out long enough, or fucked him hard enough, that David would suddenly decide he wants to be his boyfriend? Real nice fantasy, Brewer. Not really how this works, though.

He watches David out of the corner of his eye, but they don't say anything more about it.

So Patrick keeps driving, white knuckles gripping the steering wheel, the uncomfortable silence hanging heavy in the air.

\---

The first time it happened, David had just gotten back from a lucrative visit to Heather Warner's farm, where he secured exclusivity for the store.

He'd walked into the back office that evening, grinning, and told Patrick how Alexis had helped, in spite of the fact that Heather is dating Ted, who Alexis is apparently in love with, which they "talked about in the car in a _very_ emotional conversation about how we bot— um... about her feelings for Ted."

Patrick had a feeling David was holding back from him, but he didn't mention it. He doesn't need to know what he and Alexis had talked about. So he congratulated him instead.

Before he knew what was happening, David was in his lap in his desk chair, kissing him like his life depended on it.

"Shit, fuck, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I—"

"David, it's fine—"

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what—"

"It's not a big deal, we can—"

"Please don't leave the store."

Patrick just looked at him. "I wouldn't leave the store because you kissed me."

"Okay. Um. I'm sorry, I just... I-I'm gonna go."

David was gone before Patrick could stop him, before Patrick could tell him that he's crazy about him and ask if he would like to get dinner at the café to celebrate Heather's contract.

\---

They didn't acknowledge that kiss until the second time it happened, two weeks later. Which was after the open mic night that Patrick had (brilliantly) suggested to get people into the store. And to maybe finally tell David how he feels.

He'd played a cover of "The Best" by Tina Turner, sneaking glances at his business partner but not really particularly singing _to_ him, the nerves keeping him just shy of a true serenade. Still, once everyone left, David pushed him into the stock room and kissed him breathless.

Then he'd pressed his hips against his and Patrick saw stars. "Do you want to stop?"

"No," Patrick choked out. "I really don't."

"Good."

A moment later, Patrick's jeans were shoved down to his knees and David had a hand on his dick.

Patrick had every intention of telling him that he wanted him — that's what the song was _supposed_ to do, start the conversation that Patrick wanted to _date_ him — but then David had sucked a mark onto his collarbone and Patrick was putty in his hands.

\---

The third time it happened was after Rachel came into the store a week later.

Patrick had been flirting, blatantly, with his... with his business partner that he sometimes kisses, who gave him a mind-blowing hand job once and let Patrick return the favor, the look David made when he came eternally seared into his mind.

"Rachel, what are you doing here?" he asked, dropping the eye cream he was flirtatiously patting into David's (perfect) skin from his spot between his (incredible) thighs. David froze in place, perched on one of their merchandise tables, the air changing from charged-with-sexual-tension to charged-with-uncomfortable-tension in an instant.

After the most unpleasant conversation of his life in the alley behind the store, Rachel was on her way home and Patrick made his way back to his office.

"Do you want to talk about it?" David asked.

Patrick shrugged. "Not much to talk about. My ex-fiancée. Came here to get back together."

David raised his shoulders to his ears and crossed his arms. "And?"

"And it turns out, I'm really fucking gay." He paused. Were two kisses and a handjob enough for him to claim that label? "I think."

"You think?"

He wrestled with what to say, unsure if David of all people would understand, with his unshakeable confidence in who he is.

"Do you want— um, do you want some help figuring it out?"

Patrick just looked at him, the "can we figure it out over dinner?" that he _planned_ to say dying on his lips when he caught David's smirk just before he dropped to his knees.

\---

And then it _kept happening_. After business hours in the storage-room-slash-office, before opening in the back stock room, in the alley behind the store, in Patrick's car after Jocelyn's baby sprinkle, and even a few desperate times at Ray's. Including after David had a fight with his dad about the Rose Apothecary products at the motel, when Patrick had pressed David down into the mattress and fucked him for the first time — from behind, at David's insistence, so that he didn't have to "look at his _Phantom of the Opera_ face," ignoring Patrick's repeated placations of "you're still really fucking pretty, David," and the soothing kisses he'd pressed into the back of his neck, between his shoulder blades, down his triceps, anywhere his lips could reach.

And then again a few days ago, when David straddled Patrick's hips and rode him and he got to watch David's face the whole time.

And in the midst of all that, he kept meaning to ask him out, to tell him that he's had feelings for David ever since they met.

Instead, he let David fuck him and tease him and kiss him senseless without ever mentioning how much he meant to him.

Which is how he finds himself, now, hearing David call himself "single," two months into this... (apparently) non-relationship.

 _Fuck_.

\---

David pulls him in by his neck when they get to the motel and kisses him deeply, reaching out with his right hand to cup over Patrick's dick and _squeeze_.

Patrick groans. He could absolutely go again, and David knows it.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow," David whispers, dropping one last kiss to his lips before sliding out of the passenger seat and disappearing behind the door to his room.

He thinks about it the entire too-short drive to Ray's, and as soon as his car is in park, he texts Alexis.

iMessage with Alexis:Alexis  
  
**Today** 10:42 PM  
Patrick:Can we get breakfast tomorrow?  
  
Alexis:I'm flattered but I don't really double dip with my brother  
  
Patrick:How did you even know about that?  
  
Alexis:He told me. Obvi  
  
Patrick:I'm gay.  
  
Alexis:Okay  
  
Patrick:So I'm not trying to hook up with you.  
  
Alexis:You'd hardly be the first but okay  
  
Patrick:So breakfast? Say, 8:00?  
  
Alexis:Fine  
  
Patrick:My treat.  
  
Alexis:Omg can't wait for breakfast tomorrow it'll be so much fun! 💖✨  
  


He laughs and steps inside.

\--

Alexis plops herself down in the booth across from him (at 8:20, clearly David's timeliness is genetic) and rests her chin on her hands, her eyes sparkling at him.

"Uh, did you want to order, or...?" he asks over the rim of his mug, his tea now cold.

"Oh, no, Twy knows my smoothie order."

As if she were summoned, Twyla places a smoothie in front of Alexis. "Anything I can get for you, Patrick?"

"Uh," he tries to think of a breakfast food. Literally any breakfast food. A single breakfast food. "Toast?"

Twyla looks confused for a moment, before writing it down. "Coming right up."

"Toast?"

He shrugs. "Not feeling very well." It's not a lie. He _is_ a little nervous.

"Mm, is it because you're sleeping with my brother? He can have that effect on people."

"Uh," he sputters. "No, no, um. Just, uh—"

"Look, Patrick, I have a meeting at town hall at 9, so if you could just..." She makes a _hurry up_ gesture with her hands. It reminds Patrick so much of David that his heart clenches.

"Right, um, so... I hear you need volunteers."

"Mmhmm," she hums impatiently, sipping her smoothie.

He clears his throat. "Okay, um, so I would like to offer mine and David's time in exchange for the Rose Apothecary logo on Singles Week collateral." Her eyes narrow, straw still between her lips. "And with the caveat that it will not prevent us from participating in any of the events."

She sputters and chokes lightly, coughing. "Did—" she gasps and pulls his tea toward her.

"By all means..."

She gulps down a sip and clears her throat. "Patrick, this is cruel, even by David's standards. If you want to break up with him, there's at _least_ like, five other ways to—"

"I'm not breaking up with him."

"Um, okay, is this like, a sex thing? Because Singles Week is supposed to be about connection and finding love and I _know_ David isn't poly, so it's not that, and I don't really feel comfortable with you guys using it to like, find a third, or—"

"Alexis!" he interrupts with a light laugh. "We, um. We aren't looking for a— for a threesome," he tells her, pitching his voice to a near-whisper.

"Okay," she starts, her eyes wide as she shimmies her shoulders, "well, why don't you just _tell me_ why my brother and his boyfriend would want to participate in the event, then?"

Patrick chokes on air. _Her brother and his what?_ "Um, we're... Alexis, we're not together."

She rolls her eyes. "Are you guys trying to be _professional_ or whatever? Because I saw you two making out in your car last night when you dropped him off, and like, I'm _pretty sure_ the whole town knows you two are dating."

The whole town? Perfect. So the whole town was going to pity him when David eventually finds someone who actually deserves him.

Patrick swallows down the sour feeling when he says, "It's just sex."

Alexis glares. "Does _he_ know that?"

"Well, he's the one who told me last night that he's participating in Singles Week, because he is, and I quote, ' _single_ ,' so. Yeah. I'd say he knows."

It comes out more bitter than he intended, but it's too late now.

"So, just to make this _perfectly_ clear to me," she says, poking at the tabletop with her finger to punctuate each word, "you, the person my brother spends 90 percent of his time with, and David, the guy you've been _clearly_ crushing on for the last six months, are hooking up, _casually_ , and you want to volunteer to help with Singles Week, in exchange for sponsor credit, as long as you both get to participate, separately?"

"That's correct."

She looks at him and sighs, as if this is a massive imposition on her, as if _she_ is the one doing them the favor. "Fine. It's a deal."

He grins. "Great, send over the specs you need for the logo and I will get you the right file."

Her eyes widen. "Um. Right, right, the uh... the specs."

He laughs lightly. "The printer will have them."

"Right! Right." Alexis juts her chin forward and purses her lips. "Of course. I will ask the printer for the specs."

She boops him on the nose and breezes out of the café.

"That went well," Patrick whispers under his breath.

"Here's your toast!" he hears Twyla say over his shoulder before sliding him a plate of charred bread.

"Uh. Thanks, Twyla."

"No problem! I'll get David's coffee and your tea for you whenever you're ready to head out."

" _The whole town knows you two are dating_ ," he unhelpfully remembers with a sigh.

Still, he gets David's coffee, even though he knows it will be cold by the time he arrives at the store. Just in case he's early.

God, he's fucked.

\---

"Hey, good news!" Patrick greets when David walks in the store at 10:30 AM.

David pulls his white-framed sunglasses off his face and purses his lips. "Mm, you have your laptop open and those little _finger things_ so, not sure how good this news can possibly be."

He chuckles. "Well, I have my _rubber thimbles_ on so I can add the _case_ of condoms you ordered for Singles Week to our inventory sheet. Laptop is open so I can send Alexis our logo for the back of the volunteer shirts."

"Uhm," he watches David swallow. "The—the volunteer shirts?"

Patrick grins at him. It's hard not to when he's being dramatic like this. _Fuck_ , he needs to get it together. "Yeah, like we talked about last night? She agreed to put our logo on the..." He clicks back to the email from Alexis. "Day One Icebreaker Game handouts, Night Three Mixer drink menus, and on all of the volunteer tee shirts as a sponsor. We'll get equal billing with the café."

"So... we are... volunteering?" David says, biting back a pleased smile, because yeah, Patrick has catalogued his every smile by now, even the ones he tries to hide.

"Yeah, yeah, she seemed excited to have us on board." It's not strictly true, but he'll take it.

David's mouth turns down in that adorable, reluctant smile of his, his eyes bright. "We're... volunteering?" He repeats, a lilt to his voice as he inches closer to Patrick. "We're _not_ participating?"

Patrick shakes his head. "Oh! Right, yeah, sorry. Forgot that part. Alexis is fine with us participating." David freezes. "Obviously, for me, I won't be participating in _all_ of the activities, some are _pretty_ heteronormative," he parrots back from David's rant last week when Alexis ran him through her plan. "But hey, more options for you, right?"

David just nods, his face too neutral for even Patrick to get a read on it. "Right. Right, of course."

Patrick grins at him and returns to his inventory form before letting his smile fall. He doesn't know how he'll make it through the week.

\---

That night, when David pushes him through the curtain and shoves both their pants down and takes them both in hand, kissing Patrick possessively, he can't help but remember how nicely David had thanked him for the open mic night, and wonders if he has a bit of a competency kink, especially when it comes to their store.

He'll have to think of some more ideas to get their name out there, if _this_ is how David reacts to it.

\---

Patrick pulls the "Volunteer" tee shirt down over his head and feels a familiar flutter of nerves in his stomach.

One that reminds him of a night a few months ago when he pulled on a blue jacket, instead of a black tee shirt, and headed to the café, just like tonight.

Except that night, he had enjoyed a nice birthday meal and celebrated David's day with Stevie at a clearly-not-a-date-after-all dinner, and tonight, he was going to watch David try to find his perfect lock. Or key, he's still fuzzy on the rules of this game.

He sighs, runs his hands through his hair one more time, and walks out of his room.

To absolutely no one's surprise, the event does not go as planned.

There are no locks, just sympathetic glances from Alexis as David plays musical chairs and flirts with a dozen women.

Then Mrs. Rose arrives, takes the clipboard from Alexis, and tells her to participate.

"Ew, mom, _David_ is playing."

"Alexis, this is hardly a game of spinning bottles—"

"Spin _the_ bottle," she corrects with an eye roll that feels a bit too fond and familial for Patrick to be witnessing.

"You can chat with your brother for a few moments in the spirit of this winsome activity you created, I'm sure, dear," she tells her, nudging her toward the chairs.

"That was nice of you, Mrs. Rose."

She looks at him then, her eyes narrowing. "Peter—"

"Patrick."

She waves him off. "Are you not planning to partake? There is quite the lovely group of young women here this evening and I am more than capable of holding a clipboard while you chat up some of the county's finest singles."

He shakes his head. "Ah, um. This isn't really my thing."

"Oh, dear, you don't still hold affection for your former betrothed, do you?"

God, the gossip mill in this town is relentless.

"Uh, no, Mrs. Rose. I'm uh. I'm gay."

A moment of understanding crosses her features. "Oh. Well," she takes a moment to collect herself. "Surely there is... _someone_ in town who has caught your eye?" she asks, pointedly.

 _Yes, your son, who I'm absolutely stupid about and who regularly gets me off but doesn't want to actually date me._ He forces a smile. "I'm just waiting for the mixer," he replies, not answering her question. "But hey, that just means I get to keep you company tonight."

"Mm, well yes, this is quite fortuitous for you, I suppose."

The music stops, cutting them off. Then Ted is there, and Patrick catches David's eye as Ted makes his grand gesture. He hopes that the tears he rapidly blinks back pass for happiness for his friends instead of the heartbreaking jealousy that it isn't David standing in front of half the town and telling Patrick that he wants to be with him.

The music switches back on and the game continues. David's eyes stay on Patrick for a few more seconds, until he's nudged out of his seat by another participant and the moment is broken.

Patrick doesn't let himself look at David again until they're putting the chairs away.

"Do you want to go somewhere after this?" David asks, softly.

Patrick shakes his head. He can't do this tonight. All he wants is to lie in the dark with a pint of ice cream and feel sorry for himself because the boy he likes doesn't like him back. "I'm exhausted. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

They stack the rest of the chairs in silence.

\---

Day Two starts with a puppy adoption brunch event that David and Patrick skip as it takes place during store hours.

They spend the morning awkwardly and silently moving around each other, helping customers and restocking the massage oils that are flying off the shelves, and at one point, Patrick watches David slide one into his bag with a wink.

Patrick laughs at him, and suddenly, things are normal again. "I hope you're planning to pay for that."

David waves him off. "Just a tester, Patrick. Why don't you damage it out on your inventory sheet and we can _test_ it tonight?"

He steps right into David's space behind the counter and presses his hips to his. "David," he whispers lowly. "I cannot _wait_ to test the massage oil with you." He watches rapt as David bites his lip, and he feels David nudge his hips up just a bit, already turned on. It makes Patrick feel powerful, like he won something. " _After_ tonight's speed dating event, which, of course, we volunteered to help with."

David groans.

Patrick smirks and starts to step away, but David grabs his hips and keeps them pressed together for another moment. "Meet me at the motel after? Alexis is going to spend the night at Ted's and my parents will be out late."

Patrick just swallows and nods.

\---

Speed dating that night is fun.

Well, not _fun_ , really, but at least he got to participate. Alexis set the room up in a way that made it easy for queer people to meet, and it turns out, there are more options in this town than he thought there would be.

He spends five minutes chatting with Miguel, Ted's veterinary rival, who it turns out is bisexual and a _big_ fan of the Blue Jays. He's also funny, which Patrick really wasn't expecting.

The buzzer sounds, and the next guy who sits down is a wedding photographer named Ben who drove in from Thornbridge.

"Yeah, there's just something about capturing someone's exact aesthetic and preserving the most beautiful day of their lives that just... makes me happy."

Patrick grins. "You would love my business partner," he says, motioning to where David sits, now chatting with a guy Patrick hasn't met yet. "I've never heard the word 'aesthetic' so many times before I met him."

Ben turns back to face him, wearing a strange expression. "Oh, sweetie..."

"What—"

The buzzer sounds, cutting them off. Ben offers him a sympathetic half-smile, and then he's gone and a young, dark-haired man takes his seat.

"Hi! I'm Ken."

They chat for a while about work, and Patrick can't help but glance over to where David is speaking with an objectively beautiful blonde woman, who is tossing her hair over her shoulder and laughing at something he says. David smirks at her and Patrick feels a spark of jealousy creep up his spine. That's David's _let's get out of here_ smirk. That's _Patrick's_ smirk.

"Patrick?"

"Sorry, sorry. You were saying something about the project you're currently working on?"

This goes on for three more rounds, before Patrick takes himself out of the game to use the restroom, passing David's table on the way, watching _another_ beautiful woman trace one finger down his arm.

He clenches his jaw and keeps walking. He has no right to be jealous. David isn't _his_ , no matter how badly he wants him to be. No matter how much he fantasizes about waking up next to him and kissing him lazily as golden sunlight pours in. No matter how often he dreams about domestic mornings cooking breakfast together, bringing David coffee in bed, wandering to the café for a late brunch when they can finally detangle themselves from the sheets and each other's arms. No matter how badly he wants to take David out, kiss him in the middle of the sidewalk, call him his "boyfriend" to their customers.

No matter how badly he wants to be _David's_.

No matter how in love with him Patrick thinks he might be.

They _don't_ belong to each other. And Patrick is going to have to live with that if he wants him at all. He needs to get over this searing-hot jealousy.

Still, that night, he drives David to the motel and forgoes the romantic massage oil foreplay, ignoring his own desire to worship every centimeter of David's body, and instead grabs the lube tucked into the same pocket of David's bag. And once David is open and begging for him, Patrick fucks into him, hard and steady and unrelenting — until David's hand finds his and twines their fingers together and his hips stutter in shock, his rhythm faltering as he searches David's face.

Until David smiles softly at him and Patrick feels something completely foreign unfurl inside his chest.

Until David lifts his other hand to caress Patrick's jaw and he moves his hips, slowly, feeling every drag in and out of David spark along the entire surface of his skin.

Until David pulls him in for a kiss that eventually becomes two open mouths pressed together, sharing the same air as they breathe and Patrick stops moving at all for a moment, just stays buried inside him, as close as he can possibly make them.

Until David pulls back and looks him in the eye as he whispers " _Patrick_ " like it's a prayer and he has to kiss away the inexplicable tears on David's face.

Until he has to press his free hand to David's mouth to stifle his shout as he comes, and David's fingers tighten around his other hand, refusing to let go as he watches Patrick follow him over the edge.

"How are you so _good_ at that?" David asks breathlessly, when they lay with their legs tangled together moments later, half on top of each other in his twin bed, in a bitter facsimile of a cuddle.

Patrick kisses the underside of his jaw. "Had proper motivation."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you were driving me crazy tonight."

David makes a pleased sound in his throat. Patrick files it away into his long-term memory, so he never forgets it, even when this all comes crashing down. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. The thought of any of those people touching you? Couldn't wait to get you naked and remind you who would be fucking you tonight." It's nowhere near what he wants to say. Nowhere near the _I want you to be mine, I want to be yours, I think I'm in love with you_ that he longs to tell him.

"Mm," David responds hollowly before slipping out from under the covers. "I should shower, and Alexis will be back soon."

"I thought you said she was staying at Ted's tonight?"

"No, I said she would _be at Ted's_ tonight, but she's sleeping here."

It's not what he said, Patrick remembers because he was hoping he could fall asleep next to David for the first time, maybe tell him how he feels in the safety of the dark, wake up with him, kiss his sleep-soft mouth and taste him first thing.

But he knows a dismissal when he hears one, so he gathers his clothes and leaves while David showers.

\---

Day Three starts with a trivia brunch (which they again skip in order to sell lube and artisanal edible body paint to other participants. Patrick can't decide if he's pleased or threatened when the blonde woman he saw flirting with David yesterday comes in for condoms while he's at the café grabbing their lunch. But once she starts gushing about a guy named Mark, Patrick is much nicer to her), followed by the mixer at the Wobbly Elm. Patrick and David are volunteering in the loosest sense of the word, meaning that they're wearing their tee shirts and are expected to answer questions about restroom locations and be available for any possible concerns, but there are no games or anything to really organize.

"Hi!" Alexis greets them with a smile. "So, it looked like speed dating went well for you both!"

Patrick nods. "Yeah, there were some nice guys."

David just hums.

"So! Okay, just like, mingle, have fun, let me know if anything _crazy_ happens, okay?"

She boops them both on the nose before she whisks away, clipboard in hand and heels clacking on the linoleum.

"Shall we?" Patrick asks, gesturing to the bar.

David grins. "God, yes, I _will_ be needing a drink to get through this."

They step up to the bar and order, chatting mindlessly about a time when Alexis roped David into a horrible double-date with one of her friends on a yacht in Greece, ensuring he couldn't fake an emergency and ditch the date.

"It was _horrible_ Patrick, she was on some like, cabbage cleanse? And she insisted that _I_ not eat anything either because, and I quote, 'the temptation would be too great.'"

"She made _you_ forgo a meal?"

David purses his lips in that I'm-trying-to-seem-annoyed-but-I'm-actually-amused way that Patrick loves almost as much as David's real smile. "Yes, can you imagine? _And_ she smelled like cabbage."

Patrick is thinking of a way to turn a date story into asking David on a proper one — he is mentally workshopping, " _I would love to make up for it by buying you dinner and maybe one day marrying you because you're my absolute favorite person I've ever met_ ," when he feels a hand tap his elbow. "Hey, Patrick! Did you catch the game last night?"

 _No, Miguel, I was busy fucking my business partner's brains out._ "No, no, I missed it, but I caught the highlights this morning," he responds, and he _feels_ David walk away. Without even looking, without a single point of contact between them, he knows, instinctively, that David isn't behind him anymore.

"Well, it was great. Can I buy you a drink?"

Patrick lifts his beer. "I'm all set, but you can keep me company while I finish this one."

Miguel smiles at him. "Sounds great."

And he's _hot_ , he's so fucking hot, like he goes to the gym, and he's tall, dark, and handsome, and he's funny, and he likes Patrick's favorite team, and he likes animals and probably wouldn't freak out over a single dog hair on his thousand-dollar sweater after someone brought their dog into the store. And he's _nice_. He's kind and caring and attentive.

But he's not David.

And that's the crux of it. Patrick doesn't want _nice_. He wants bitchy and particular and prickly and dramatic.

He wants _David_.

 _David doesn't want_ you _, though_ , his brain unhelpfully reminds him.

So he sips his beer and he chats with Miguel about sports and dogs and running a business in a small town until Miguel is pulled away by a friend and then Ken is sidling up to Patrick and he buys him another beer and the cycle begins all over.

Because Ken is also handsome and charming and kind and decidedly _not David Rose_ , which is really too bad for him.

Patrick's gaze wanders as Ken tells him a really adorable story about his picture-perfect childhood with parents who he felt comfortable coming out to when he was twelve years old, who he still has weekly dinners with, who probably didn't push him to get engaged to his high school sweetheart just because "it was time" and "that's what Brewer men do, son." He thinks about the time David told him how Johnny and Moira slept in a different wing of their house when he and Alexis were growing up, and how their complicated relationships with their parents who they still love very much is something in common.

"Hey, um, Ken, this is..." Patrick swallows down the lump in his throat. "This is really, really great, I just, ah... I gotta go?"

Ken narrows his eyes. "Aren't you volunteering?"

Patrick nods. "Yeah, yeah, I just, um, I'm not feeling well, so I—"

Ken holds up his hands to stop him. "It's fine. I get it. It's a singles event. I'll leave you to it."

He wants to stop him, but instead, he drains his beer and searches for Alexis, finally finding her tucked in a back booth, tapping furiously on her phone with a wide grin. "Alexis?"

"Patrick, hey! Having _fun_?" she asks suggestively.

Then she looks around, probably for the first time that night, assuming she's texting Ted, and her eyes lock on something that makes her smile fall.

Patrick glances over his shoulder and sees David leaning in close to a man he doesn't recognize, his eyes hooded as the stranger speaks, before he rests a hand on his forearm and _giggles_.

"Um, yeah. I uh, I gotta go, is it okay if I...?"

Alexis smiles tightly at him. It's pitying, and Patrick hates it. "Patrick, I don't know what's going on with you two, but if you'd just _talk_ to him—"

"Goodnight, Alexis."

"Ugh, Patrick!" she calls as he turns away. He keeps walking.

He stands outside the door for a moment before realizing that David drove them both here.

_Fuck!_

"Patrick? You okay?"

He turns toward the voice, coming face-to-face with dark stubble and dark hair and dark eyes and perfect skin and one dimple framing a pair of plush lips.

"Oh, Miguel, hey."

"You leaving?"

He lifts his jacket to confirm. "Yeah, yeah, just uh... you know, already two beers in, don't want to get sloppy." He gestures to his volunteer tee shirt. "Want to make sure I represent the brand well."

"Do you want a ride?"

He can picture it clearly. Miguel, with his sharp jawline and his smoldering eyes and his perfect body, pressing him against Ray's front door.

 _But he's not David_. "Yeah, Miguel. I'd love one, thanks."

And when Miguel walks him to the front door, he presses him into it just as he imagined, his mouth hot and insistent over Patrick's. And still, the only thing he can think is, _but he's not David_.

Maybe that's a good thing.

Maybe he needs to get over this whole thing with David, maybe he needs to finally admit to himself that it's not going to happen, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how desperate he is for him, no matter—

"I can't," he whispers into Miguel's mouth, his tongue brushing his even as he brushes him off. Miguel pulls back, slightly shocked. "I'm sorry, I just... look, you're gorgeous, and funny, and nice, I just... I think I'm in love with someone else."

Miguel nods. "Ted Mullens?"

Patrick bursts out laughing. "Oh my god, no, _no_!"

"Okay, well, as long as it's not Ted, I don't mind," he says, moving back in.

"I do, though." Patrick tells him with a sad smile. "I'm sorry, I really am. I just... I'm not over it yet."

Miguel nods, an understanding smile on his face. "Lucky guy."

Patrick laughs, bitterly. "Wish he agreed with you."

Miguel kisses him again, chastely. "Call me if you find yourself ready someday. My number's on the ad."

Patrick knows _exactly_ which ad he means. He may be ruined by David Rose, but he has _eyes_. "Yeah. Definitely."

"Goodnight, Patrick."

"Goodnight, Miguel."

He steps into Ray's house and closes the door with a sigh.

\---

"How was the rest of your night? I didn't see you leave, but _Miguel_ disappeared around the same time," David asks when he walks into the store the next morning, shimmying his shoulders in Patrick's direction.

He shrugs. "It was fine," he answers before pushing through the curtain.

"I hope you used protection," David calls after him, his voice joking and light and easy. Patrick flushes, even though the store is mercifully empty. "Who knows what kind of animal-transmitted diseases he has."

God, Patrick just wants him to be _jealous_. It's ugly. It's stupid. But he's been lowly seething all week watching David flirt with every beautiful, available person in the county and he just wants him to _know_. To know how it feels to ache, and to wish, and to _want_ as badly as he does.

Instead, he stays in the storage room and reorganizes their backstock for the rest of the afternoon.

\---

That night is the Day Four activity — a fun, high-school themed event in the Schitt's Creek High School gymnasium.

Patrick skips it with a "Sorry, can't make it, I don't feel well" text to Alexis, deciding to sit in his room and strum sad love songs on his guitar and wallow.

Which probably would've been his real high school experience if he'd known that he was gay and his hero-worship for the star pitcher on his varsity baseball team wasn't hero-worship at all, and the reason he dreamt about him was because he had a massive crush and wanted to make out with him during seven minutes in heaven instead of Rachel.

He sighs, turning his attention back to his guitar, plucking out a mindless melody before he realizes it's "The Best."

Patrick laughs to (at) himself, but before he can inspect this song choice too closely, his phone buzzes.

iMessage with David:David  
  
**Today** 8:27 PM  
David:are you up  
  
Patrick:It's 8:30.  
  
David:ok well you go hiking at like 5 am i dont know what your bedtime is  
  


Patrick wants to respond that David should know, considering the nights they stayed up sucking and licking and groping and fucking (and for him, _longing_ ) until well after midnight, but he can't figure out how to say that without making it obvious that he wants him.

iMessage with David:David  
  
David:im outside can i come in?  
  


He sighs and sets the guitar aside, annoyed that his response to David's "jump" is always a resounding "how high?".

"Hey," David greets him, stepping into Ray's kitchen. "Where's Ray?"

"He's at the Singles Week thing. Why aren't you?"

"Are you okay?"

"What?"

"You've been snippy and weird for the last few days. If the other night at the motel was too much—"

"It wasn't."

David twists the silver ring on his index finger. "Okay then."

They stand there awkwardly for a minute. Patrick wants to ask if he wants to order a pizza, watch a movie, snuggle on the couch, maybe love him back.

Instead he asks, "Wanna come upstairs?"

David bites the inside of his cheek and nods.

Patrick leads the way, not pulling him, not guiding him, not touching him at all, but knowing he's right behind him and once they're in his room, surrounded by floral wallpaper and tchotchkes Patrick didn't pick out, Patrick is on David like he's water in the desert, his mouth swallowing David's surprised gasp.

David pulls Patrick's sleep shirt over his head and kisses his neck, and Patrick pulls David's sweater off gently and folds it, setting it aside.

They undress easily, and press together like magnets and Patrick _wants_ him, even as he _has_ him, and he presses David's name into his sweat-slick skin, chanting it like a prayer as he comes, his face buried in the crook of David's neck. And after, Patrick pumps his lube-slicked fingers inside him and takes him down his throat, watching David's own pleasure take over his face. And he hears his own name fall from David's lips and settle right into the dark, untouched corners of his heart, places Patrick has never let himself explore for fear that he'd never find his way back out.

For fear that he'll never survive it when David leaves him behind in there, alone and ruined, in those small crevices that can only be filled by an all-encompassing love for someone. Places that he's afraid might already have David's name carved into them.

Patrick hands David a wipe from his nightstand and they clean themselves off efficiently and wordlessly, before both laying back against the pillows and letting sleep take them.

\---

He wakes with the feeling of David's arm over his waist and his breath on his chilled skin, his erection against Patrick's hip and he realizes he _is_.

He is completely in love with him.

David rouses slowly, and they rock against each other for a moment, before David whispers in his ear, "I want to fuck your thighs," and Patrick reaches for the lube.

David stays pressed behind him, holding him tightly to his chest, and when Patrick comes with a muffled cry, he turns his face into the pillow to catch the tears.

\---

The last event of Singles Week is that night, and Alexis combined the closing night mixer with the rescheduled lock game.

"Patrick!" she calls, waving him over.

"Hey, what are the rules for—"

"Take the lock. You're not volunteering tonight."

He rolls his eyes. "Alexis..."

"Patrick. You're a good guy. And," she says, taking the volunteer tee shirt out of his hand before he can go change, "there are a lot of guys here who would love to get to know you. So... go! Mingle!"

He slides the lock over his neck and disappears into the crowd with a deep breath.

He can do this.

"Hey, Ben, right?" he asks, spotting the photographer first.

But Ben has a lock necklace as well, so they move on quickly.

He meanders toward the bar, noticing Ken waiting for a drink. Patrick orders a beer and they chat amicably for a moment. He asks Ken how he's been liking the last few events, and they eventually try Ken's key. It doesn't work.

Still, they keep talking until Ken sees Ben across the room and lights up, excusing himself, and Patrick is alone once again.

He sees David's unmistakable hair over the crowd and watches as he slips his key into a woman's lock and — oh, _oh_ , Patrick gets the game now.

He chuckles lightly to himself, shaking his head — _god, of course he doesn't want you, you can't even pick up on such an obvious innuendo, you could never keep him satisfied_ — when Stevie walks up to him.

Which... has Stevie been participating the whole time? He vaguely recalls seeing her at speed dating, but he was kind of focused on David.

"How are you doing, Patrick? Any matches worth writing home about?"

He laughs. As if he could write home about any of this. "No, no matches." He picks at the Man's Best label on his bottle for a moment. "This sucks. How are you faring?"

She shrugs. "Realizing I'm maybe not ready for this, you know? Just, maybe I'm so _scared_ that something could be _real_ that I screw things up," she tells him, her eyebrows high.

"...Okay." He takes a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, David and I are _really alike_ in that way," she says, pointedly.

"Good to know."

"Yeah, like _maybe_ —"

"Hey!"

_Speak of the devil..._

"David! Patrick and I were _just_ talking about what could _possibly_ be holding us back from _making a connection_ at this thing."

He glares at her. "Don't you have an elsewhere to be?"

She grins. "Put your key in my lock first, it's the rules."

"Ew. Been there, done that," he cringes, but tries anyway. "Oh, sad, not a match, please fuck off now."

She smirks at him. "Don't forget to _slide your key_ into _Patrick's lock_ , too."

David's lip curls. It's adorable.

"Well," Patrick says, setting down his beer and lifting the lock. "It's for science, or whatever."

David bites back a smile, his eyes sparkling. _I love you_ , Patrick thinks.

He slides the key in and turns. Nothing happens.

Patrick knows it's a dumb game, but his heart sinks.

"Oh, um," David says, confused. He pulls on the key. And pulls, and pulls.

"David, my neck..."

"Yeah, sorry, it's just... it's stuck."

"What?"

"It's stuck!"

They glance at each other, eyes meeting, and Patrick can _tell_ David is about to make a joke.

"I have to go," he says first, whipping the lanyard over his head and bolting.

He's barely out the door when he hears Alexis behind him. "Wait, Patrick—"

He whips around to face her and glares. "That was dirty, Alexis. I'm not..." he brings his hands to his hips, taking a deep breath. "I'm not playing this game with you guys. It's not a _game_ to me, okay?"

"Patrick, I—"

"Patrick!" David calls as he pushes out of the door.

Alexis just squeezes Patrick's arm with an encouraging smile and disappears back inside.

"David—"

"What the hell was that? Are you okay?"

"Am I— am I _okay_? Are you seriously asking me that?"

David sputters. "I—"

"David, I can't do this anymore."

"What?" he whispers, as if it's choking him.

"It's not... David, I'm crazy about you. I've _been_ crazy about you from the moment I met you and I just... I can't _do this_ anymore. It feels like I'm lying to you, every time we— and it's not fair to you." He takes a breath, steeling himself. He's stumbling, and he needs to get this right. "You deserve exactly the kind of relationship you want, without someone always wanting more from you. And if you just want casual sex, then you should go for it. But it can't be with me. Because I'm not casual about you, David."

Patrick balls his hands into fists at his side to keep himself from reaching for him. Holding David now would be unfair. He shouldn't be manipulated into a relationship by affection. "You should be with someone who can be honest and upfront and respect your boundaries. I care about you and respect you too much to keep..." He sighs. "And it's not fair to me, either. Because David... I'm in love with you." He hears David's breath hitch. It almost sounds like Patrick's name. "I'm not telling you this to guilt you into— into being with me, or whatever. I just need you to understand why. I-it's not good for me. I mean, it's _good_ , but it's not _healthy_."

"Patrick..."

He waves at the door. "Go back inside. Find your perfect match. Just... please don't text me asking to come over if you don't, because I'll say yes, and I can't—"

"Patrick! Will you shut the _fuck up_ for one second?"

They both freeze. He watches the moisture gather in David's eyes, and he watches David's chin tremble, and he watches as David reaches for him and brushes away the tears that Patrick didn't realize were clinging to his own eyelashes.

"Patrick. I..." David pulls his lips between his teeth. "Me too," he manages.

What?

Wait. _What_?

He watches David exhale and... _what?_

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know... I-I thought it was just me. But Patrick, me too, okay? To all of it, since we met, I... _me too_."

David kisses him then, and it doesn't feel any different from the hundred other kisses they've shared over the last few months.

All that heat, that want that Patrick has been feeling it was... it was _care_ and _longing_ and _love_ , it was everything _he_ felt for David, given right back to him.

He grips David's waist, pulling him closer, wanting _him_ closer.

"Wanna get out of here?" he murmurs into David's mouth.

" _God_ , yes."

When they lay together in Patrick's bed after, trading soft kisses and warm smiles and gentle touches, David finally says it, whispering it against Patrick's mouth in the dark.

"I love you, Patrick."

Patrick has no choice but to kiss him. "I love you, too, David."

"I'm so glad Alexis sabotaged our locks."

Patrick grins. "Me too," he responds with a teasing grin.

David laughs lightly and grins at him, not holding his smile back at all. Patrick falls a little more in love with him.

"Hey, David?"

"Mm?"

"I definitely did this in the wrong order, but can I take you out on a date sometime?"

"I would like that very much, yes," David responds, nodding and pulling him in for another kiss, his rings, warm from Patrick's skin, pressing against his neck.

\---

"Welcome to the Third Annual Schitt's Creek Singles Week," Patrick says to the crowd at the Wobbly Elm on a bright, early October day. "My name is Patrick, and I'm your host for the week—"

"Co-host," David corrects from his spot next to him.

Patrick grins. "Right, _co-host_. This is David Rose, we own Rose Apothecary here in town, so if you need anything while you're here, let us know."

David squeezes his hand. "There are drink specials at the bar, and the icebreaker activity will begin at 3. And if you have any questions, feel free to find us or one of the volunteers."

The music kicks back on and Patrick turns to face his new husband. "Hey."

"Hi," David says softly, his smile tucked softly into the corners of his mouth in that way Patrick can never resist kissing.

So he doesn't. He leans forward and presses his lips to his husband's, reveling in the feeling of his kiss and the gentle press of a single gold band against his palm where David's left hand twines in his.

"I'm glad you volunteered us to host this," he tells him once he pulls away.

David grins. " _Me too_."

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> feel free to chat with me on [tumblr](https://danverses.tumblr.com)!


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